


Lush

by mific



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, F/F, Fanfiction, Femslash, Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-27
Updated: 2010-09-27
Packaged: 2017-10-12 06:02:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/121617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mific/pseuds/mific
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teyla helps Meredith to enjoy her body.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lush

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my free-choice kink_bingo square. The core kink is verbal humiliation.

 

“Ow ow ow. Jesus, _ow!”_ Meredith is flat on her back on the mat in the gym, gasping for breath. “Fuck, Teyla, when I said I wanted to learn self-defence I meant break-away moves, or, or, how to kick some bastard in the balls without spraining my ankle, that sort of thing. Why do I have to learn Athosian stick-fighting?” Her expressive mouth is pulled down at the side, lower lip almost quivering as she rubs her arm where a bruise is blooming.

Teyla puts on a stern face and tries not to find her exaggerated distress charming. “You need to learn how to move properly as well, Meredith, not solely defensive maneuvers. And your general fitness merits some attention.”

“Oh, great, rub it in,” Meredith mutters rebelliously, hoisting herself clumsily up to her feet. “I knew the fat bashing would start sooner or later.”

Teyla frowns, uncertain. “I do not know what--”

“Yeah, yeah.” Meredith pushes strands of sweaty hair back off her face and bends down again, retrieving her bantos rods then dropping into a crouch. “Let’s just get the torture over with, shall we, so I can go and check that the new morons the SGC sent out haven’t blown up the desalination plant yet.”

Teyla inclines her head and begins again, circling slowly. She will think about this another time. For now, Meredith needs her whole attention.

Later, Teyla makes herself a cup of sweetbark tea and meditates on the day. She thinks about Meredith whose mind is quick and bright as a fileting knife, but who drags her body around like an unwanted burden. Teyla considers how Meredith dresses for their practices – in a thick sweatshirt covering her breasts, and baggy pants. Hiding, disguising.

Years ago, Teyla was caught in John’s fantasy return to Earth while lying comatose on the mist planet. She recalls the huge photographs on shopping center walls, on billboards. She understands the concept of mass advertising now, foreign though it was to her then. Hawkers and simple signs she is familiar with from markets everywhere, but those glossy placards, many times larger than life, disturbed her with their too-thin women, faces fixed in empty smiles. Asking about it once they were safely back on Atlantis provoked Meredith into a thirty-minute diatribe about gender stereotypes, the fashion industry and the male-dominated industrial-political complex, while Sheppard rolled his eyes. Teyla later questioned Dr McManus, one of the sociologists, but that led to baffling theories about overpopulation causing the developed West to favor prepubescent body-types rather than the rounded shapes of fertility. Never had Earth seemed so alien.

Meredith thinks she is fat, Teyla realises; she is ashamed. The fabric of BDUs and SGC uniforms does not mold to the body as her and Ronon’s leather garments do, and tac vests make everyone lumpy and misshapen, but even so. She has caught glimpses of Meredith off-world, changing furtively in some alien hut assigned to the two of them for the night. Teyla recalls a flash of her breasts and buttocks, heavy and sensual in the firelight that was their only light-source, and how it had made heat crawl between her thighs. Their lifestyle keeps Athosians fit and well-muscled, but they do not value unnatural thinness.

She finishes her tea and sets down the cup, determined. She will help Meredith to be healthier, yes, but she wants to do more, to make her see that she is beautiful. And loved, Teyla realises, with a sense of inevitability. It is time to stop watching, stop stalking. Time to act.

/////////////////

Mer feels her heart race a little as she enters the gym. She’s not sure if it’s fear or, or…best not to go there. Teyla is already on the mat, moving through exercises in that damned fighting skirt with the slits that go right up, right up to her… _shit_. Mer studiously does _not_ stare at Teyla’s gleaming arms, at the sweat-slick curves of her breasts above the laced-up, skin-tight top she wears for these sessions.

She toes off her boots. Teyla insists she fight barefoot, even though the mats are probably crawling with all sorts of pathogens, like, like athlete’s foot, or, Christ, _trench_ foot…or perhaps you can only get that from an actual trench? She’ll have to research it.

Mer caves and peeks sideways at Teyla who has spun into a fast strike and kick, her sticks flashing. _God._ She bites back a moan and hauls herself to her feet, feeling bulky and slow.

Twenty minutes later she’s flat on her back again, gasping for air. How did Teyla sweep her legs out like that? She’s fucking lethal. “I give in,” Mer groans. “You’re queen of the ninjas.”

Teyla raises a perfect eyebrow, the smug bitch. “Thank you, I think. But we are not finished here, Meredith. Come, I have something else to demonstrate.”

She reaches down and pulls Mer to her feet then presses in behind her and moves them in tandem, modeling a complex sidestep, knee and jab move designed to take out both eyes and an attacker’s testicles. Nice one. But Mer is only half concentrating, too aware of Teyla’s heat flush against her back and her thighs, dry-mouthed as Teyla’s hands slide down her arms to position them.

Teyla’s breath is warm on her neck, whispering. “Of course, Meredith, you must not let an assailant get behind you in real life.” Mer is about to protest that she wouldn’t, she didn’t, but then she’s spun around and Teyla’s foot hooks behind hers and trips her, down onto the mat in a controlled fall, pinning her.

“Hey, not fair,” Mer huffs, wriggling and trying to shuck Teyla off. No go: Teyla has her wrists, has wrapped her legs around Mer’s in some evil, twisty way that allows Mer no traction. She’s helpless, and Teyla’s right there, pressed against her, smiling wickedly and smelling so damn good and, _god_ , undulating her hips against Mer’s groin as she immobilises her legs. Mer flushes deeply, her skin electric, and Teyla raises up a little on her forearms and flips her hair back and her breasts brush against Mer’s, and that was a goddam _move_ , wasn’t it? Oh fuck, is she _flirting?_

“You must be more alert, Meredith,” Teyla says with a smirk. “If you let an…adversary…take the upper hand like that, anything could happen.”

And all Mer can do is stare up at her like a puppet with cut strings, mouth open and pupils blown, panting.

/////////////////

Teyla has hopes for this mission and for once all goes well, and nothing tries to kill them. The planet is uninhabited now, nothing but a shallow river through grassland and the ruins of some long lost Ancient outpost which Meredith chatters about excitedly, tracking down an elusive power signature with her scanner. They pinpoint an underground laboratory just as the light turns orange and tilts toward sunset, and Sheppard decides they’ll camp out and resume in the light of day.

Ronon lopes off and returns dragging a creature that Sheppard names a “mini-moose”, making Meredith snort and retort that clearly he’s never seen an actual moose in his life, unlike her. It makes excellent eating however, when roasted on a spit across the fire, far better than the MREs which Teyla will eat if she must, but will never enjoy. Unlike Meredith, she thinks wryly, who almost seems to prefer the military’s bland, artificial food, the more additives the better.

The fire burns low and they retire to their tents, Sheppard and Ronon some distance away across the fire from Teyla and Meredith. Meredith has rigged her tablet to trigger an alarm at any intrusion or gate activation, and they have a cloaked puddlejumper, so they don’t set a watch.

Teyla strips down to sleeping clothes and slides into her bag. Meredith delays, pretending to work on her tablet until Teyla feigns sleep. Then she turns off the torch and undresses down to a t-shirt and underwear in the dim red glow from the fire, fussing with her bag and grumbling softly under her breath about primitive sleeping arrangements as she unhooks her brassiere and fumbles it off underneath her t-shirt, sighing with relief.

They lie side by side, Teyla observing Meredith’s shape outlined against the faintly backlit canvas. The grassland is quiet, no wind tonight. There are distant cries from nocturnal animals or birds, and the soft trickling of running water from the river.

Then, closer by, soft gasps and a cut-off groan. Meredith stiffens, rigid in her attempt to ignore John and Ronon, but, clearly acutely aware of every grunt and whimper. They are usually more circumspect, Teyla thinks, but then, how often do they have a mission such as this, almost a holiday. And it is warm here, early summer and a fine, still night.

Teyla had seen Ronon teasing John all day. Flirting aggressively, with a subtle insubordination that begged John to take him in hand and discipline him. Meredith was oblivious to their games of course, head down, muttering over her tablet and pacing out dimensions as she mapped the underground complex. She is not so oblivious now, rolling on her back with an arm across her face as the whispers from the other tent carry through the dark, still night. “ _Make_ me…” “Oh, I’ll _make_ you all right…yeah, like that… fuck, your _mouth_ , oh yeah, _suck_ me…”

“Jesus,” whispers Meredith beside her, doubtless thinking Teyla asleep.

“Does it bother you?” she asks quietly, lying on her side facing Meredith, who jumps at her words, hunching down in her bag.

“Thought you were…I, no, not really…well, yes, I suppose. I…I wasn’t sure, they usually don’t…um…they aren’t so…”

Teyla takes pity on her. “Yes, they are loud tonight. It is good that they feel so relaxed, that they trust us.”

“Oh, I didn’t think of…yes, well, I suppose you’re right.” Meredith sounds mildly stunned, as though confronted with a new law of physics.

There is a low groan from beyond the fire, and someone – Sheppard, Teyla thinks – makes a keening noise ending in a harsh sob.

“Fuck, I can’t–” Meredith mutters wildly, struggling with the zipper on her bag.

She means to escape, Teyla thinks, to head off into the grass, into the night; anything to avoid the sounds of pleasure. That cannot be allowed. “Wait.” Her voice is soft but authoritative, and Meredith pauses, sitting up, legs encased. “Are you running from them, or from yourself?”

“What? No, I…I just. It’s too much, stuck in here, hearing that, and with you here…I…um, I mean…” She trails off.

Teyla sits up beside her, placing a hand on Meredith’s arm. Meredith quivers at her touch but Teyla strokes the soft hairs on her forearm, and after a while the trembling ceases. “Do not run away, Meredith. It is dark out there and you might get lost.”

“Oh yes, and that’s so very likely, nothing but idiotic grass for miles,” Meredith grumbles, but she makes no further move to go.

“And besides,” Teyla says, “I would miss you if you left.”

“You would? Well, yes, of course you would, I mean, well, it’s dark and we’re all alone here, and…”

“No, I enjoy the solitude, but I would miss being able to do this.” And Teyla leans in and kisses her softly, breathing against Meredith’s lips and sliding a hand back, to tangle in her curls.

“Mmmph!” says Meredith, opening her lips and then pulling back a little. “Oh god, you. Kissed me. On the mouth. You, you _were_ fooling with me, the other day in the gym, weren’t you?”

“Yes indeed, Meredith. I find you very…stimulating…to spar with.”

“But, but…why me?” Meredith mutters, baffled, touching her mouth with the tips of her fingers. She sounds, Teyla thinks, exactly as she does when confronted by an Ancient artifact whose function is impossible to fathom.

Teyla slides her hand back to the nape of Meredith’s neck and draws her in. “Because I want you,” she whispers against Meredith’s lips, and kisses her again, sliding her tongue in as Meredith’s mouth opens helplessly, pressing Meredith down into the bedding.

Meredith is by turns uncertain and hungry, sucking on Teyla’s tongue and pushing those competent hands up underneath Teyla’s sleep-shift, making her shiver, then stiffening when Teyla palms her breasts through the t-shirt and plays with her nipples. Teyla gentles her, murmuring soft reassurance, and gradually she relaxes. Teyla nuzzles up her neck and Meredith arches back, moaning, then cuts off abruptly, her head tilted toward John and Ronon’s tent, biting her lip in embarrassment.

“They can hardly complain if we are also a little vocal,” Teyla murmurs, hot against her neck, biting gently and nuzzling under Meredith’s ear until she presses up and whimpers.

Meredith huffs a laugh. “Yeah, right. Still going to be kind of awkward at breakfast, don’t you think?”

Teyla blows on Meredith’s nipples through the thin cotton, and thumbs them to hardness. “Not unless we make it so. Neither of them is inclined to talk about…personal issues.”

Meredith snorts and relaxes, pushing her breasts up into Teyla’s hands and mouth. Teyla takes the opportunity to lift her t-shirt and kiss up the valley of her breasts, tracing spirals around her erect nipples until Meredith is gasping brokenly, “ _God, god, oh please_ …”

Teyla feels a little crazed, sucking Meredith’s full breasts into her mouth one by one, licking the sensitive tips and pressing them together, rubbing her face in the lush, sweet-scented cleft as Meredith’s chest heaves with hitching moans. Her throat aches with want and her mouth waters. She wants to bite, but it is too soon for that. Meredith’s t-shirt is rucked up and in the way and Teyla sits, straddling her, and pulls it off over Meredith’s head, stripping off her own shift then sliding down, rubbing her breasts against Meredith’s, loving the rough brush of nipples, the rich press and slide of Meredith’s curves against her own as she takes her mouth.

She kisses her way down to the plump mound of belly, tonguing Meredith’s navel, reveling in softness. Meredith tenses though, wriggling away and pressing Teyla’s head further down. Teyla goes willingly enough, kissing the dark curling hair and the damp, musky crease where thigh meets groin.

Meredith is almost incoherent with need, writhing against Teyla, hands alternately knotting in her hair and clawing at the sleeping bags. Teyla loosens her soft cotton pants and kicks them off, pushing away the encasing bag and pulling down Meredith’s briefs, then steadying her hips, pinning her to the bedding and spreading her legs.

“ _Please, Teyla, please_.” Meredith is hoarse with want, opening her thighs as Teyla burrows in, pushing her legs wide, nostrils dilated at the sweet, salty scent. This, yes, this, this is what she wants. She slips a finger into slick wetness and noses into Meredith’s folds, curling her tongue around her clit as her finger slides up into hot, quivering cunt, stroking and pressing. Meredith gasps and clutches at the bedding, curling her hips into Teyla’s embrace. Teyla moans, sucking, and fucking more deeply up into Meredith with two fingers now, face wet as she presses hard with the flat of her tongue, loving the broken, needy sounds as Meredith tenses, toes curling, arms outflung, bucking up shuddering as she comes.

She is sensitive afterwards, pulling Teyla up straight away, whispering half-words and breathless nonsense into her neck as she slides her own hand between Teyla’s trembling thighs, and Teyla is lost, clinging to Meredith and fucking herself mindlessly on those long, clever fingers until everything dissolves into white-hot pleasure.

/////////////////

Mer hesitates, hand lifted to the crystal beside Teyla’s door. They have been together for a month now, but she still can’t really believe it. She shakes herself, sucks in her stomach and triggers the lock.

Teyla turns, smiling, from a chest where she is folding laundry. “Meredith. It is good to see you.”

Mer grins nervously, running a hand through her hair. “Um, yes. I wasn’t sure if you’d want to…after today with the, the swamp-things on that planet. All that slogging through the mud.”

“Yes, it was tiring, but we all returned safely, did we not?” She comes across to Mer and pulls her into an Athosian embrace, hands on her arms and foreheads touching. Mer sighs and breathes in Teyla’s freshly showered scent, then steals a quick peek down her cleavage. Teyla snorts softly and lifts up Mer’s chin. “You are altogether too fond of that greeting.”

“I like the view,” says Mer, mouth crooked with mischief. She pulls Teyla into a brief kiss, hands in her hair. “Liked it when you were on point in front of me in the swamp, as well.”

“I noticed that you kept up energetically, considering the difficult terrain.” Teyla traces her lips with a finger, which Mer bites at playfully. “The training sessions have done you good – you have far more stamina these days.”

“Want me to demonstrate my…stamina?” husks Mer, sweeping a giggling Teyla up in her arms and dumping them both on the bed. She has always been strong, her shoulders too broad for a girl. Mer thinks of April Bingham who was blond and popular (unlike Mer) and who wiped her mouth going _ooh, yuk!_ and made the other kids call Mer “The Hulk” after Mer kissed her in Algebra Club. All that and mono too.

“Meredith?” Teyla’s hands are soft on her face, bringing her back to Atlantis, to Teyla’s room. “Is all well? You are frowning.” She combs a hand through Mer’s hair.

Mer drops her head and closes her eyes. “Why do you…I mean…” Lifting her head, she stares down at Teyla. “Why me? I’m not…I don’t…”

Teyla stops her with a finger to Mer’s lips. “Hush. I have a question for you, Meredith. Why not? What makes you feel that I cannot want you? You are a scientist, so why ignore the evidence?”

“Yes, well, there’s evidence and evidence,” huffs Mer, rolling off and flopping back beside Teyla on the bed. “Not so good at reading it accurately when it’s people. I learned that the hard way.” She covers her eyes with one arm. “And there are, there are…facts…that can’t be overlooked. Like how hot you are, um, and how…not hot…I am. I mean, _look_ at us!” Mer’s throat is tight, her voice strained. She squeezes her eyes closed, under her arm.

The bed shifts and she feels Teyla move, leaning over her. “Yes, I am looking. I think, however, that I am not seeing what you see. You must tell me.” She takes Mer’s arm and lifts it away from her face, then rolls on top to straddle her. “Come now, describe yourself. Tell me what you see when you look in the mirror.”

“Oh right, like I’m going to do _that_ ,” mutters Mer, turning her head away. She only keeps a small hand-held mirror in her quarters, for hair and make-up. No way is she ever getting a full-length, not after that nasty experience in Houston at the hotel arranged for her as the astrophysics celebrity presenter. She shudders, remembering. Floor to ceiling and facing the toilet for fuck’s sake – who puts a mirror _there_? Men. Morons.

“Tell me,” Teyla says implacably, taking Mer’s hands and drawing them up above her head, imprisoning them.

Mer writhes but she knows that when Teyla sets her mind on a goal, she’s relentless. Smiling diplomacy with a core of steel. She struggles in Teyla’s grip, letting the frustration and helplessness make her angry. Maybe if she’s angry she can manage this…maybe.

“What do I _see_ , Teyla?” spitting the words, her eyes narrow. “Just that I’m so fucking _average_ , compared to you.” Screwing up her face to forestall any protest. “No, not my _brain_ , of course, because hello, smartest person in two galaxies…well, except maybe for Sam Carter, but she never would tell me her WAIS score…but, but, ah...” Mer takes a deep breath and tries to tap into the rage again. “Average as in mousy brown hair, and a ski-slope nose, and my eyes are muddy gray-blue…although some people seem to like them so I think that depends on the situation…” She squeezes her eyes shut again and tries to get back on track. “And I’m fat. Okay? I’m not sleek and bronzed and, and gorgeous like you and, um, Ronon…and even goddam Sheppard’s pretty slinky if you’re into guys, which I’m not. As you know.” Mer forces herself to open her eyes again. She can feel that her mouth is twisted in a hard, crooked line, but there’s nothing she can do about it.

Teyla inclines her head thoughtfully, leaning in. “That is all?”

“ _All!”_ splutters Mer, her face thunderous. “Yeah, that’s _all_. Let me up now, because the mood? Is dead.” She struggles a little, but Teyla has her fast.

“No, I think not,” Teyla says softly. She bends in and kisses Mer, sweet and slick despite Mer’s protests, teasing her mouth until she can’t help but open.

“God, god, don’t _do_ that,” moans Mer, annoyed and flushed. She wants to be angry, but Teyla just kisses her pouting lower lip, and chuckles.

“I will do what I like, and I will say what I like. I will tell you what _I_ see now, Meredith, when I look at you.”

“Oh Christ, here we go,” Mer moans and screws her eyes shut again.

“Your hair is so soft, and it shines in the sun. When John sets me to watch your six I stare at you, wanting to part the curls at the nape of your neck, and to bite you there.” Teyla bends lower and nuzzles her hair, pushing some strands back from Mer’s temple with her nose, and kissing her hairline.

Mer reddens, chafing under Teyla’s words. Her eyes dart away and she winces; she hates it when people say nice things about her.

“Your nose is delightful. It is pert.” Teyla leans down and kisses it. Mer grimaces, wriggling. She feels hot and bothered. Held down and forced to take compliments, her worst nightmare.

“Your eyes are indeed blue, a dark, complex color which changes with the weather and your feelings. I can get lost in them when you are aroused, they are so deep, like a mountain pool. Or in broad daylight when you are happy, they are bright, like the noonday sky.” Teyla kisses her lids.

Mer groans, a treacherous wetness seeping from the corners of her closed eyes. “Oh for fuck’s sake, I’m a mood ring. How very seventies.” She writhes, hating herself for being childish, hating Teyla for making her listen to touchy-feely bullshit. It doesn’t help, Teyla saying nice things. Just makes her squirm with embarrassment, makes her want to roll her “deep like a mountain pool” eyes. Yeah, right. Her breath is coming faster though, and she’s exquisitely aware of Teyla’s thighs gripping her, strong hands pressing her wrists back into the pillows. Mer realises that she’s wet, that her hips are lifting subtly against Teyla’s ass. _Great time to find out that you like mortification_ , she thinks crossly.

Teyla bends and licks her neck, making Mer arch back against the mattress. Teyla blows on her wet skin, kissing and biting down her throat, across her collar bones. Mer gasps.

“You are not bronzed, and I love your pallor. Your skin is pale and sensitive and it looks well next to my own, like cream swirled into coffee. I love to make you flush and burn, all of your skin making plain your arousal, your pleasure.”

Mer cannot help her response. She feels the blush rising from her breasts, flooding up to the roots of her hair. Her skin tingles and tightens, sweat prickling down her spine, beading along her neck. Teyla licks it off as Mer writhes.

The bed shifts again as Teyla changes position, trapping Mer’s wrists in her left hand and freeing her right. She cradles Mer’s breast and covers the areola with her hot mouth, teasing Mer’s rapidly hardening nipple with her teeth before sucking and licking. Mer groans and surges up, into Teyla’s mouth, rubbing herself against Teyla’s groin.

Through a daze of arousal Mer hears Teyla’s voice, a low growl. “You are soft and lush, Meredith. Your breasts are beautiful, heavy and rounded. They are made for my mouth, for my hands.” She demonstrates this, bringing Mer up off the bed with a desperate whimper. “Your stomach drives me wild. I want to bury my face there and tongue your navel while I finger you to orgasm. You are like a wild creature, protecting your soft underbelly. I want to bite you, to make you surrender and open to me, trust me.”

Mer’s hands are no longer held but she leaves them above her head. Teyla’s words burn her, make her writhe with exquisite shame and with deep, crawling heat. The words make her want to leave her hands up above her head, to open her legs now that Teyla has spread her and slid between her thighs.

Teyla is putting her words into action, kissing Mer’s stomach as she strokes the soft skin inside her thighs and toys with the damp curling hair of her mound. She speaks in hoarse whispers, punctuated by kisses and bites. “You feel that you are fat…that you are heavy and gross…To me you are rounded and lovely…filling my hands and my arms…solid and real…Perhaps, compared with those models…on the posters back on Earth…you are fat, but I love it, all of it…I love _you_ , Meredith…every curving part of you…You are strong and brilliant and alive…and I _want_ you.”

Mer squirms and arches, sobbing as Teyla presses the heel of her palm against her clit and thrusts slick fingers inside her. Teyla licks at her belly, biting and kissing, lifting her head now and then to whisper _fat, you are fat and I love it…love your fat, sweet belly…so soft and fat…_

Mer cries out, aching with want as heat throbs between her legs and Teyla’s insistent whispers torment her. Each time she hears the word _fat_ a bright wash of squirming pleasure sweeps down from her navel to her groin, making her thighs tremble, making her shudder and arch. She clutches the pillow, turning her head and biting it helplessly. Fat, she is fat, she is fat and greedy and needy and broken open by love. Surrendering, Mer falls into sensation, convulsing around Teyla’s fingers.

/////////////////

Teyla blinks awake, her face nestled on Meredith’s comfortable belly, arms around Meredith’s waist. Meredith passed out almost immediately after coming and is making soft, snuffling noises in her sleep. Teyla had been so aroused that it took only a few desperate thrusts as she rode Meredith’s thigh before she had shuddered in turn and collapsed back down again, twitching and breathless.

She crawls back up Meredith’s body and pulls the covers around them, snuggling into Meredith’s warmth. Meredith stirs and mutters “Mmmmm…chocolate…”

Teyla grins, pushing herself up on one elbow and stroking Meredith’s cheek. She keeps an emergency supply in the nightstand, with the sex toys. She leans across Meredith who smacks her lips vaguely and says “Nggh…yes…please…” but does not awaken.

Teyla carefully breaks off a precious square of 70% dark chocolate, Meredith’s favorite. She closes the drawer and drapes herself along Meredith’s warm side as she rubs the melting chocolate on her lips and pushes it inside a little. Meredith’s tongue slides out and licks across, and Teyla cannot resist meeting it with her own.

“Mmmmm…chocolate…” Meredith says again in a richly satisfied voice, opening one eye and smirking up at Teyla. Teyla holds the chocolate up and Meredith lifts her head and takes it, holding it between her lips as Teyla meets her, enfolding her mouth, her chocolate-slick lips and tongue and the harsh, intense sweetness of the melting chocolate in a leisurely, licking kiss.

“Love you,” mumbles Meredith happily.

“Yes, and I will pay that more mind when you are not post-coital from sex and chocolate,” Teyla says, mock-severe. Meredith grins up at her, then peers down where brown chocolate fingerprints are smeared across her breast, from Teyla’s fingers. “Got me all sticky,” she says with satisfaction.

“Yes, indeed,” says Teyla, smirking in turn and licking it off.

“Chocolate’s very fattening,” says Meredith.

Teyla casts a look at her, but Meredith seems relaxed. “Yes, indeed.”

“That’s good, then,” says Meredith, smiling beatifically.

Teyla snorts. “Do not imagine that you are getting out of training with the bantos rods, Meredith, even so.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” says Meredith, voice slurring with drowsiness. “S’all about…balance.”

“Yes, indeed,” smiles Teyla, fitting their curves together and joining her in sleep.

/////////////////

 

the end


End file.
